


The Price of Secrets

by MarbleGlove



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NCIS
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:51:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleGlove/pseuds/MarbleGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fight for jurisdiction did not go the way Gibbs had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy the Vampire Slayer nor NCIS, and thus none of the characters who appear in this fic.

Gibbs was so beyond furious he didn’t know how he was capable of not killing everyone in sight. A marine and his wife and two of his three children had been slaughtered in the most gruesomely sadistic way possible, and the third child was missing. And now some nameless character with a whole bunch of black-suited flunkies was trying to take the case away from him.   
  
He’d had to return to headquarters from where he had been working a crime scene because Abby had told him that the first load of evidence had already been taken away from her before she’d ever gotten anything.   
  
The office looked like it was about to explode. All the rest of the NCIS agents were glaring just as angrily as Gibbs at the milling men in suits, but in an even more focused away at the man who stood out from everyone else: wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, one of his eyes was covered in a black eye-patch, and he was clearly the one determining what evidence would remain and which would be removed.   
  
That made him Gibbs’ target. Under any other circumstances he would have had something contemptuous to say about this man’s team building skills given how quickly his flunkies got out of Gibbs’ way.   
  
“I don’t know what the hell kind of jurisdictional crap you’re trying to pull here, or what kind of political pull you think you have, but this is my case and you are not going to take it away from me.” He started yelling even as he approached the man and by the time he finished, he was practically spitting in the guy’s face.   
  
But for all that, the man just let him yell. Gibbs found himself panting a bit, like he’d been holding his breath too long, had yelled with everything he had in him, and now, wasn’t sure what to do next.   
  
For a moment the man just watched him and then said, “That’s not my call to make.” And then he turned away.  
  
That, Gibbs knew how to deal with. He grabbed the man, spun him around and forced him against the nearest wall. “Like hell it isn’t!”   
  
More than a few guns had been drawn, both by the agents in black and by the watching NCIS agents, but the man in Gibbs’ grip didn’t even struggle.   
  
“No, it really isn’t. You just said yourself, you don’t know what the hell of kind of jurisdiction I’m pulling. Well, maybe you should think about it a bit. What kind of jurisdiction _am_ I pulling?”   
  
The calmness of the man actually did work a bit to help Gibbs calm down. At least he could breath right, even as he continued to pin the man to the wall. “The shitty kind of jurisdiction.”   
  
The man actually had the gall to roll his eye at that. “ _Obviously._ But tell me, what is so secret that you can’t know it? You’re the head of the major crimes response team of the Navy police. What is it that you are _not allowed to know?”_  
  
“What?” Gibbs actually took a step back at that, letting the man stand on his own feet. The man had sounded… angry. He hadn’t been mocking Gibbs, he’d been angry at Gibbs for not having high enough clearance.   
  
This time the man took a step forward. “I hate working with the government agencies, just like every other agent here, but I think I have it right. Because my organization doesn’t _do_ classified. We do secrets because we’re all a bunch of crazy mavericks, but we don’t do _classified._ I can tell whoever the hell I want about whatever the hell I want. We have brochures. We have powerpoint presentations. We have support staff to help friends and family understand, to help victims and bystanders and random curious civilians. We tell anyone who needs to know or wants to know. Except,” it wasn’t until the man poked Gibbs in the chest that he realized their positions had been reversed and now Gibbs had been backed into a wall, “except,” the man repeated, “for agents of the United States’ government. Those, we _don’t get to tell.”_   
  
It was practically a snarl by the end.   
  
“What?” Gibbs found himself repeating. He wanted to desperately to fight someone and this man had seemed the obvious target, but this didn’t make sense. This didn’t make any sense at all. A quick look around showed that the other NCIS agents in the work area were just as confused. The agents in black, however, clearly knew exactly what was going on.  
  
The man seemed to deflate. Closed his eye. _“That’s_ the political pull I have.” He sounded weary. “In exchange for all the information and all the resources you have and full immunity for my people performing their duties, I don’t involve any federal agent in our mission or allow them to become involved. In exchange for the information, I send my people in without back-up or risk to government agents.”  
  
Gibbs blinked and then did another quick look around. The agents in black were listening intently but the fact that they’d done nothing to protect this man from Gibbs now made a whole lot more sense. This man wasn’t their leader or their teammate. He was providing assistance under duress, and now they were listening carefully to make sure he didn’t overstep their lines. But they didn’t care about him at all.   
  
Gibbs looked at them and then turned back to the one-eyed man who was the only person here without back-up. “What’s your name?”  
  
It was an inane question, but it seemed to break the tableau they’d gotten themselves into.   
  
The man snorted lightly. “Xander. You?”  
  
“Jethro.” If this man was going by his first name, Gibbs would too. “Why don’t we go out and get some coffee.”   
  
The agents in black stiffened and one of them finally tried to intervene. Both Xander and Gibbs ignored him, for all that Xander shook his head.  
  
“I’m sorry, Jethro. I would love to have your help. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier if I could use you and your team. But my girls are out there right now, looking for your killers. They’ll find them and they’ll kill them. Our people have a very specific jurisdiction and within that jurisdiction, our people are judge, jury, and executioner. We need the immunity we’ve bartered for in exchange for going in without back-up.”  
  
Xander paused, but Gibbs knew enough about interrogations and confessions to know that he wasn’t finished. Gibbs was just as glad to know that the people who had caused the slaughter he'd seen would get no offer of mercy. He wasn't upset by that, at all, and he knew the other observing NCIS agents weren't either. And while Xander was clearly directing talking directly to Gibbs, Gibbs was absolutely sure that Xander was well aware of the rest of the NCIS agents listening in. He may not be allowed to brief anyone here, but he wanted to—he would give them as many clues as he could, along with warnings.   
  
Xander looked down, took a breath and then looked directly into Gibb’s face, and said, without flinching, “They’ll also find the missing kid, dead or alive. And if they find him still alive, they’ll judge whether he’s merely been tortured horribly, so that they can take him to the hospital to recover, or if he’s been inducted into the gang. Because if they find that he’s been made to kill, has been brought into the gang like every other member of this gang has been recruited, then they’ll kill him just like they do the others.”  
  
“He’s ten years old!”  
  
“Which _maybe_ means they just took him to torture. And kill.”   
  
“He’s. Ten. Years. Old.”   
  
“Yes, he is. But once upon a time, every other member of the gang was, too. Every single member of this gang was a victim and unwilling participant once upon a time. We don’t deal with regular bad guys, we don’t punish and we don’t rehabilitate. The grey areas of human conflict are left to other organizations. We only deal with the extreme cases and we only provide extreme solutions.”  
  
One of the agents in black coughed rather pointedly.   
  
Xander’s answering smile was more wry than happy. “And I've reached the limit of what I can say.”   
  
They were still staring at each other when a phone rang.  
  
Xander looked away to answer his cell phone before the second ring. “What’s the what?”  
  
Gibbs could faintly hear a girl’s voice on the other end. A woman’s voice, if he wanted to be politically correct, although really, it sounded more like a girl’s voice to him: young. He couldn’t tell what she was saying.  
  
Xander looked surprised, though—surprised and happy. “Really?”  
  
More talk on the other end.   
  
Then, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. And maybe a quick patrol of the hospital itself, too. Just to be safe. But well done. Both of you. Ice cream is on me.”   
  
The squeal on the other end of the line made Gibbs wince, but Xander was smiling when he hung up.   
  
“You lucked out, Jethro. Marcus was found, tortured but alive and uninitiated. He’s on his way to the hospital.”  
  
Gibbs was almost out the door when Xander caught his arm. “I assume you’re going to help figure out his living situation?”   
  
Gibbs glared at that. That couldn’t possibly be a real question.   
  
Xander rolled his eye again and did not remove his hand. “It’s a yes or no question.”   
  
_“Of course_ I’m going to help him!” Gibbs yelled.   
  
“Good. Because my team has somewhere else to be. But,” and Xander released his grip on Gibbs’ arm to pull out his wallet and remove a business card, “here’s the contact information for a psychiatrist who is in the know. If she can’t help him herself, then she might be able to recommend someone else who can.”  
  
Gibbs accepted the card and then had to glare off one of the agent in black who tried to take it away.  
  
“Seriously, dude?” Xander addressed the agent in black. “It’s a business card for a local psychiatrist to help a traumatized kid. I’m not even carrying any of my own business cards for this trip.”   
  
While the agent in black apparently accepted this explanation, it brought Gibbs’ attention back to how crazy this whole situation was.   
  
“What’s to stop me from just asking this Dr. Noake to tell me what she knows?”  
  
Xander shrugged. “Nothing. You can ask whatever you want and she can tell you whatever she wants.”  
  
Gibbs frowned. There had to be a trick.   
  
Xander shrugged. “I wasn’t lying to you: we like having allies in the know. But… I also wasn’t lying to you about how we have brochures and presentations and support staff to assist with the telling. It’s not an easy debrief to make. A lot of people who aren’t even officially part of our organization still come to us to help with telling someone new. It’s not easy and there’s a reason why the U.S. government doesn’t want their agents involved. And… I can’t completely disagree with them.”  
  
Gibbs just stood there thinking it through. He knew he needed to get to the hospital, but this was important.  
  
After a minute of Gibbs contemplating the card in his hands, Xander went back to sorting through the last of the evidence, for the agents in black to cart away. Before leaving himself with his escort, Xander paused in front of Gibbs again. “Whether or not you decide to ask or receive an answer, make sure that Marcus gets help. It’s not an easy world we live in.”   
  
Xander waiting until Gibbs nodded his agreement, but then left without telling Gibbs his last name or even his organization’s name or answering any of the many questions circulating in Gibbs’ head. What he left behind, though, were plenty of avenues for further investigation and a gut feeling that Gibbs, and any other agent who decided to follow this though, would learn some pretty terrible things they wouldn’t be able to un-learn.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony DiNozzo has a fear of vampires. He doesn't know much but still more than he's said and a lot more than he wishes he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is still not intended as a series, but this sequel bit just did demand to get written. So here’s a next installment.

It was cold outside so it made sense that DiNozzo would be putting up his winter jacket when returned to his desk, except, “Where the hell have you been, DiNozzo? You were supposed to be having your annual psych evaluation.”

“I was!”

The psych evals were held in an office in the same building. Gibbs made a point of looking at the jacket still in DiNozzo’s hand before glaring at him again.

“I, ah, arranged to have it with Dr. Noake rather than the regular guy.”

Gibbs blinked. "Dr. Noake. The shrink helping Marcus?"  

“Yeah." And then DiNozzo actually stopped talking, finished hanging up his jacket, and went to his desk. 

Gibbs had tried questioning Noake and gotten nothing from her. In his own unconventional way, though, DiNozzo was a master interrogator. But if he'd succeeded or failed, Gibbs would have expected DiNozzo to brag about it. 

"Isn't that kind of unethical?" McGee piped up. 

DiNozzo flinched, but rallied. "Unethical to use an outside psychologist for the evaluation? Pshaw. Demanding we use only the in-house guy would be unethical."

McGee almost certainly rolled his eyes when he responded, "No, using a psych appointment as an excuse to interrogate an expert witness." 

Gibbs ignored McGee and DiNozzo's chatter to continue his inspection of his second. DiNozzo was acting subdued and then there was that flinch.

"DiNozzo!" He barked out. "My office." He headed to the elevator. 

He could still hear McGee's mumbled "I told you it was unethical" as he walked away, and Gibbs allowed his own eyes to roll. Did McGee really think Gibbs cared about the ethics of interrogation methods when it came down to getting the information he needed? 

When he and DiNozzo finally had some privacy in the stopped elevator, he continued to inspect the man. DiNozzo fidgeted a bit but didn't break down as so many did when subjected to silent inspection. 

Finally, Gibbs decided that a softer approach than normal was definitely in order. DiNozzo just seemed fragile right now. "What happened?"

And DiNozzo's shoulders slumped. "I... confirmed a suspicion." 

Gibbs was actually surprised. "You already suspected you knew what was up with Xander's group." 

"Sort of." DiNozzo shrugged. "I... suspected I knew what was up with Marcus' attackers." 

Gibbs glared, not with intent, but with suspicion of his own. 

"You never said anything."

"No. No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't want to be right?"

And that fit unfortunately well in with the impressions he had gotten from Xander and Dr. Noake and even with Marcus. Like there was this huge secret that they shared but it was so unpleasant that just talking about it was unpleasant. It was like a picture that was so awful that Gibbs' brain hadn't yet allowed it to come into focus. He was too old and too experienced to have to put up with this feeling.

Still, he wasn't going to force DiNozzo to tell him, at least not yet. 

"And you've now confirmed that you were right?"

"Yeah."

"So what now?" 

"Now." DiNozzo's breath was almost a laugh except it sounded painful. "Now I try to figure out if I'm strong enough to face it or weak enough to pretend I still don't know. And maybe pray that I don't stay caught in the middle like this."

"You are strong enough." Gibbs told him. It had been Gibbs' mantra for too many times when DiNozzo had been at risk. He wasn't going to let DiNozzo give up now. 

DiNozzo looked wrecked as he responded. "And if it's ethical to stay here at NCIS when I know the, when I know that Xander's group could use my help." 

Gibbs found himself grabbing DiNozzo by the shoulders, almost shaking the other man. "They don't get to have you." 

But DiNozzo just stood there and he didn't agree or say anything, just looked guilt-ridden. Something had to be done. That something, he realized, needed to be getting the facts, because as it stood DiNozzo was just fighting the thoughts and fears in his own head and there was no winning those kinds of fights.

"You have contact information for Xander?"

"Yeah. Dr. Noake gave me a Skype contact of all things."

Skype? Gibbs wondered why people couldn’t just stick to the classics like a plain old phone number. He supposed that now was not exactly the time for that kind of rant.

"Then you're going to call him right now, and you're going to get his side of things, and then I'm going to give you mine."

"But..."

Gibbs glared.

"Yes, boss." There was almost a hint of DiNozzo's customary humor in that.

Gibbs jabbed at the elevator button to get it start again. One of the actual official conference rooms would have a computer and camera set up for a private Skype call, although Gibbs himself had no intention of not being there. He’d simply be careful to not be in the camera angle. He was torn between pleased and unhappy that DiNozzo hadn’t even attempted to shoo Gibbs out of the room. Xander had made clear that he wasn’t supposed to talk to federal agents who hadn’t been read in and would expect some level of privacy for their conversation. But there was no way Gibbs wasn’t going to be here to support DiNozzo… and acquire as much information as possible. Normally DiNozzo would make at least a token effort to tell Gibbs that he could do this on his own. The fact that he hadn’t was worrisome.

Instead DiNozzo logged into the computer, pulled up the Skype program, typed in a contact and sent a request. He only paused once, right before he clicked on the “send contact request” button. He just took a deep breath and clicked on it.

It really only occurred to him then that it was now a waiting game. That was another problem with these new fangled communication methods. Who knew how long it would take to get a response? At least with a phone number, you either knew you had gotten through or you hadn’t all within a minute or two.

His internal rant was only just begin to build up, however, when the contact request was accepted and an invitation for a video call came through.

DiNozzo gave Gibbs one quick panicked looked before pulling professionalism on like a cover identity and hitting the accept button. The video loaded and there was Xander. A man notably younger than either DiNozzo or Gibbs but with a look of calm experience, not diminished at all by either the eye patch or the loose button down shirt worn open over a t-shirt.

“Hey Tony. Dr. Noake just let me know that she’d given you my contact information. What can I do for you?”

Well, that was more direct than Gibbs was expecting and likely more than DiNozzo was expecting too, but DiNozzo went with it without pause. “I know that you’re recruiting. I want to know more.”

“Hmm.” Xander actually looked skeptical. “Because you want to do something or because you feel guilty that you don’t?”

DiNozzo looked affronted for all that Xander had managed to point out the exact issue that he was dealing with. Possibly because once DiNozzo pulled on a cover identity, other people weren’t supposed to be able to see any uncertainty that lay beneath it. Gibbs opinion of Xander went up another notch.

“Does it matter?” DiNozzo’s question was unfortunately also a rather good one. If there was a serious need, could Xander’s group afford to turn away volunteers?

Xander, however, did not seem affronted at all. “Sometimes it matters.” He paused, but only briefly, not long enough to pressure DiNozzo to answer the original question. “Let me tell you a couple of things that might help you sort out your intentions. Because, yes, we do need more people and adding one or two experienced investigators to the staff would be awesome, but we need our crew to be dedicated.”

That phrasing made Gibbs wonder if it was obvious that Gibbs was in the room. DiNozzo was too talented an undercover agent to give him away by looking at him, but Xander might have just accurately guessed. It wasn’t stopping Xander from talking, though, so Gibbs wasn’t going to do anything about confirming his presence.

“So first, both a reassurance and a warning: we would love to have you and would immediately have a position as support staff, training and advising one or more of our field agents. Our field agents put Olympic athletes to shame. You would not asked to be or allowed to be a front line field agent. When you went out in the field, you’d most likely be traveling with a bodyguard.”

“You’re trying to fill desk jobs?” DiNozzo sounded appalled. Gibbs almost grinned.

Xander shrugged. “Research and teaching mostly. We need people who can find the information we need fast and can help give our agents, who are all distressingly young, the benefit of their experiences. But yeah, that’s why we still have such a problem with our recruitment. It’s not finding people, it’s finding the right people. Most people with the skills we need either don’t want to be in as much danger as we’d put them in or want to be in more danger than we’d want to put them in.”

“Oh.” DiNozzo was visible relaxing from his fears and anxieties of earlier.

“The second point I want to make is the edges of our jurisdiction. We fight the worst monsters out there and we do the whole judge-jury-executioner thing with them. But, Tony, we don’t fight the runners up. I bet you’ve seen a whole lot of crap in your job with murder and assault and treason, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“You get your own set of monsters off the street and protect the innocent that way. Not one of the monsters you’ve put away fall under our jurisdiction. We would have let them walk because we don’t do arrests and trials.”

DiNozzo’s eyes were wide. Gibbs rather thought his own were too. What the hell?

“So, Tony, while I would love to recruit a man of your skills and abilities. I want to make sure you understand that you are under absolutely no moral obligation to fight this war. You are already protecting the home front and there is no shame in that.”

“Oh,” said DiNozzo.

“Yeah,” said Xander.

And they were both quiet for a while.

“Xander?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I call you again later if I need to?”

“Of course. Let me message you my phone number. I’m easier to reach that way.” Hah! Gibbs felt a momentary stab of vindication. This computer stuff really was crap. The phone number popped up as a typed message and DiNozzo wrote it down on his note pad as Xander continued. “For some of these calls, I just find it helpful to be able to see the person I’m talking to.” Hmph. Gibbs supposed that Xander had a point there. “And, Tony, good luck with fighting your monsters.”

Tony finally smiled back, small but real. “And good luck to you with fighting yours, Xander.”

Xander grinned before cutting the connection.

DiNozzo finally allowed himself turn to Gibbs where he’d been standing outside of the camera range. “Thanks for making me make the call.”

“You feeling better now?”

“Yeah.”

“Then back to work,” Gibbs growled.

“Sure thing, boss.” DiNozzo smirked as he ambled out of the conference room.

Gibbs stayed behind though. Once DiNozzo was gone, Gibbs pulled up the Skype program again and found the phone number that Xander had sent. He carefully copied the number into his phone’s memory. He knew what he’d be thinking about this evening, while working on his boat.

Xander had talked about “monsters.” A lot of LEOs talked about perpetrators that way. But…

Gibbs had never seen anything like what had been done to Marcus’ family and he’d never seen DiNozzo have a suspicion that he was unwilling to share during an investigation. And now Gibbs had a suspicion and it sure wasn’t something that he’d be willing to share in an investigation.

So now he had to think about this, because maybe it was just him being an idiot about not finding the real answer to what Xander’s group did. But now he wondered, what did Xander mean when he talked about “monsters.” Was it possible that “real monsters” weren’t just humans doing monstrous things? What if real monsters were _really monsters?_


End file.
